


Knit Four, Purl One

by ATTHS_TWICE



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coping, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Happy, Healing, Help, Knitting, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 03, Shopping, Therapy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATTHS_TWICE/pseuds/ATTHS_TWICE
Summary: An alternate universe in which Mulder and Scully meet as a result of a tragic occurrence in Mulder's work life. She is exactly the person he needs, right when he needs her most.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 21
Kudos: 85
Collections: X-Files Secret Santa Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesbianscullies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianscullies/gifts).



> For Oakie and the Secret Santa exchange. 
> 
> Your prompt was "Mulder knits and makes Scully a sweater."  
> Well... I could not see that going any way but as an AU and that's wonderful as you said you're a huge sucker for them. This was the idea that came to me, I hope you enjoy it. ❤️
> 
> Thank you to my early reader and general idea bouncer offer, Lisa. What would I do without you? 💕
> 
> And to Erica and Laia for betaing this as I cranked it out and for your comments and words of encouragement. You ladies rock!

_March 1996_

Fox Mulder sighed as he walked empty handed out of the shop. He was jostled about by the other pedestrians as they hurried about their day. His hands in his pockets, he sighed again as he kept his head down. He had gotten the time of his counseling session wrong, not having written it down last week, and he’d had an hour to wait. 

As he had walked out of the counselors office, he had thought about his conversation with Samantha the previous night, reminding him about their mother’s birthday dinner that evening. He did not want to go, not at all, but of course he would be there. Samantha had reminded him about getting a gift and he swore as he hung up. 

Wishing he could claim to not have had the time, he knew the hour mix up would give him plenty of time to find _something._ He had walked down the street intent on grabbing the first thing he found sufficient. 

Three shops had been passed through quickly and still he had found nothing. Feeling discouraged and a bit angry, he opened the door to the next shop, stepped inside, and nearly walked right out again. 

His mother was not an overly sentimental or knickknacky type person. She felt things should serve a purpose, not just sit on a shelf collecting dust and as a result she was a difficult person for which to shop. 

_This_ shop, full of tchotchkes and cutesy little things, was definitely not her style. Crafty things and happiness seemed to ooze out of every corner and he felt his annoyance rising. 

But then, he noticed a teal colored wall, with shelving shaped like diamonds, holding skeins of yarn in vibrant colors. For some reason, that drew his attention and pulled him forward, despite his previous desire to leave. 

“You need help with anything?” A voice said and he turned to find a woman with long wavy reddish hair. She was wearing a flowing dress, a lacy long sleeveless shirt over it, and a choker necklace. She stared at him with raised eyebrows and he shook his head as he cleared his throat.

“No. No that’s okay. I uh… I was actually just leaving,” he said, attempting to step around her, no longer wanting to look more closely at the yarn, but she did not move.

“Leave? But your hands are empty,” she stated and he looked down, as did she. Looking back up at her, she gave him a cheeky smile and it irritated him.

“Nothing here I’m interested in, so…” He started to walk past her, ignoring the astonished noise she made, when a different woman came into the room and his heart dropped.

She was carrying a vase of flowers, an almost secret smile on her face. She had to be related to the other woman, their hair similar in shade, but she was a bit shorter. When she looked their way, her blue eyes seemed to see right through him. She smiled wider and he took a deep breath, realizing he had stopped breathing when he saw her. 

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

“Hello!” she said, setting the flowers down and coming over to them. “Did you find what you’re looking for? Did you need help with anything?”

“He says there’s nothing here that interests him,” the woman behind him said and he turned to look back at her. She stared him down, almost daring him to say otherwise.

“Oh,” the shorter woman said and he turned toward her, feeling flushed and slightly uncomfortable. She looked at him with her blue eyes wide and he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I uh… I just meant I hadn’t found anything… yet.”

“Hmm,” the woman behind him hummed but he ignored her, fixated on the woman in front of him.

“Well, I’d be happy to help you if you’d like.” She smiled and his heart raced.

Jesus Christ, she even had a dimple in her cheek.

“Missy? Would you mind getting that gift ready for Mrs. West? She should be in later.”

“Not one bit. Glad _she_ at least was able to find something interesting to buy.” She walked past them, turning to look at him with a smirk and he sighed. 

“Please don’t mind her. She’s my sister and quite snarky at times. This is my shop and we’re sort of working together right now and she’s driving me a little crazy.” She had leaned in and said that quietly as the woman who was her sister walked away. She smiled again and stuck out her hand. “My name is Dana. It’s nice to meet you.” He took her hand and nodded.

“Fox Mulder.” 

“Seriously?” she asked, scrunching her chin quickly and clasping his hand with her other hand. “I’ve never met someone named Fox.” He let go of her hand and put his hands in his pockets. “I knew someone named Red, which always made me giggle. And even a… Coyote, but never a Fox.”

“Yeah… well,” he said with a shrug, suddenly irritated again as he glanced around.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said and he looked back at her, finding her smiling. He shrugged again, angry at himself for feeling annoyed by her. 

“So what can I help you find?” she asked, clasping her hands together.

“Uh… I honestly don’t know. I just came in here because I have somewhere to be and I got the times mixed up.”

“Oh… well then, I understand you not finding anything to interest you.”

“I didn’t mean… I do need to find a gift. For my mother. This just isn’t really her style.” He waved around the room and she nodded, keeping her eyes on him.

“Not a knickknack person, I get it,” she smiled. “Not a problem. Not everyone is. I promise I won’t be offended if you walk out and leave with nothing.” She smiled and he suddenly wanted to buy something, anything really, just to see her smile like that for longer.

“I…” He took a hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Please don’t feel any pressure to buy anything. It’s cold out, you’re killing time… I understand.” 

“Why?”

“Excuse me?” Her eyes widened and he put his hand back in his pocket, both of them now in tight fists.

“Why would you not care if I didn’t buy anything?” he asked harshly and she stepped back a step, crossing her arms and holding his gaze. He stared and felt like an asshole more than he ever had in his life. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“I’ll let you look around. See if anything strikes you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again and she nodded, her eyes still watching him.

“Have a look around,” she said quietly and smiled, though not the same as before.

“Yeah…” He nodded, his hands still in fists in his pockets. She walked away and he looked at the door, wondering if he could make a run for it without being noticed.

But then, her sister Missy walked past him and turned to glance at him as she did. She raised her eyebrows, looked at Dana, and looked back at him. Rolling her eyes, she walked away and he let out of breath.

Glancing at his watch, he saw he had twenty minutes and the walk to the office would take five. Fifteen minutes. He could make it that long.

Walking around the store, he kept sneaking glances at Dana as she spoke with her sister and a couple of other customers who came into the store. She was happy and light and sweet Jesus, when she laughed, it stopped him in his tracks.

Standing by the wall of yarn again, he picked up a colorful skein of it and then set it down.

“Still didn’t find anything?” He heard and he put his hands in his pockets with a sigh. He looked to his left and found Dana beside him, smiling happily. Her happiness irritated him and he remained quiet, biting back the rude response that threatened to come out.

Her smile began to falter and he hated himself again. Hated the way he was these days; hated it so much. 

“That’s okay. Thank you for coming in today. Hopefully you’ll find the gift you’re seeking.” She touched his elbow and he felt it through the many layers of clothes he wore. She started to walk away and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“How about a scarf?” he called, opening his eyes. She stopped and turned around, tilting her head to the side. “You have all this yarn, I’m sure you have some scarves or things made from them for sale.” He shrugged and she smiled, waving her arm in front of her, to his right.

“On the shelves beside the yarn. Any particular color?” She walked over to the shelves and he followed.

“Uh… I… I don’t know.” 

“For your mom, you said?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s what? Sixty?” She looked him up and down and he nodded in surprise; she was spot on. 

“Hmm…” She hummed as she turned and looked at the items behind her. “How about this?” She took down something in a rich red color and held it out to him. He took it and held it in his hands.

It was soft, very soft and as he ran his fingers over it, he smiled, remembering a blanket his grandmother used to have with that same softness. He used to wrap himself in that blanket when he was little, lying by the fire, warm and cozy while his mother and grandmother laughed and drank tea in the other room.

“What do you think? Will that do?” He looked up and she smiled at him. “It’s just a simple pattern, but I always feel that’s best with a scarf. Anything too busy or bulky takes away from the point of the scarf.” She took it back from him and smiled again, running her fingers over the stitches, as she held it in her hands. She looked up at him again and raised her eyebrows, asking a silent question. 

“Yeah, I’ll take it,” he said with a nod.

“Perfect. I’ll wrap it up for you.” He nodded again and followed her to the register, admiring the swing of her hips in the jeans she wore.

The scarf was wrapped in lilac colored tissue paper and tied with a teal ribbon. A gold sticker with an embossed S was put onto it and then placed into a bag. He paid for it and she handed him the pale grey bag with the store's logo- two black knitting needles poking through a heart shaped ball of teal yarn, nearly identical to the ribbon she had used and the wall of yarn. 

“Thank you for coming in today,” she said, smiling again and handing him his change. “I hope your mother enjoys her gift.”

“Hmm,” he hummed and nodded, looking down and then back into her eyes. “I had the time-“

“So you said,” she cut across him and he stared at her, not quite sure what to make of her. “Regardless of how or why, I am glad you stopped in today. Please come back soon. Perhaps for another gift? For your wife or girlfriend?”

“I don’t have either.”

“Pity,” she said and he watched her try not to smile. “I mean… you could’ve been back sooner if you had.”

“Yeah… well.” He picked up the bag and cleared his throat. “Thank you… goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Fox.” He nodded and turned around, saying nothing further. He walked past Missy, who stared at him the entire time, making him feel very uncomfortable. 

Pushing the door open, he walked out into the cold winter air. Adjusting his coat, he looked to the right and fell in step with the other people walking. Glancing at the shop window for one last look, he saw Missy shaking her head and Dana shrugging her shoulders with a smile.

She did a double take when she saw him looking at her and she smiled happily, her blue eyes like lasers as she watched him.

“Knock that shit off, man,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re in no shape to be of any use or good to anyone. Least of all a woman like her.” He shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, the gift she had wrapped swinging from the bag on his arm.

_______________________

“How are you feeling this week, Fox?” The counselor asked as he sat down across from her. “Anything to report? Any changes?”

“Not exactly,” he said with a heavy sigh, his hands in his pockets. 

“Still feeling angry?”

“Yes,” he answered, his voice low, his jaw clenched.

“All the time?”

“No… but it comes up at inappropriate times. I… I don’t know when it will happen, but I recognize it.”

“Have you ever acted on it?”

“What? What do you mean?” he asked, looking at the counselor, feeling his heart pounding and his anger rising. “Do you mean have I ever hurt anyone? _Would_ I ever hurt anyone? Are you serious?”

“Fox,” she said, clasping her hands and leaning forward. “I don’t mean _attacking_ someone. I mean angry outbursts at home, or in the car, and yes, with others. It’s not just physical anger. Words, looks, tone… they can all hurt. It’s not only physical.” She stared at him, smiling softly and he felt his anger calming. He took a deep breath and nodded his head before looking down and unclenching his fists in his pockets.

“It’s… it’s like I can feel it building, especially when, as shitty as it may sound, when someone is happy or jokes around with me. As though their happiness annoys me, angers me. I don’t know why.” He shook his head.

“You’ve been through a trauma, Fox. You’ve healed physically, although I know you still have moments of pain. But the emotional and mental are often even harder. It doesn’t seem it at the time, as the physical takes all of our strength in that moment. We push it down and focus our energy elsewhere and once that becomes second… then the next step is harder because, well, we want to be _better_. We _feel_ better, but we aren’t. Not really.” He nodded and sighed. 

“I do feel better physically, but sometimes the pain is there.” He rubbed his chest near his shoulder where the bullet that nearly ended his life had gone through his skin. “I’m incredibly lucky to be sitting here speaking to you. To have what he…” 

“Fox…” she said softly. “We’ve discussed this. What happened was not your fault. Your partner was in danger and you yourself were shot. He left you no choice.” 

“I know that. I do,” he whispered, still rubbing at his chest. “I just think of all the different ways… the outcomes that could have happened if I’d done things differently. If I’d…” 

“Fox…” He looked at her and she smiled softly. “It’s not your fault.” He nodded again, tears filling his eyes, which he tried to blink away, but she saw and handed him a box of tissues. Taking one, he nodded and wiped at his eyes. 

Smiling again, she waited until he had gotten himself under control. When he had, he nodded and they continued the session, his heart feeling heavy despite the positive and uplifting words being spoken. 

________________________

“Hey! There’s my big brother!” Samantha called with a smile as she walked up to him, putting her arms out and grabbing him in an embrace. “I’m so happy to see you, Fox.” He hugged her back and smiled, though it was forced. 

“Happy to see you too, Sam,” he said, kissing her cheek as he pulled back. She put her hands on his face and looked at him, her eyes searching his and he shrugged slightly. 

“Hey, you’re here. You shaved… this morning, but you shaved. You got a gift, I see. You’re here.” She smiled and patted his face before letting him go. 

“I’m here,” he whispered. She tucked back her long curly brown hair and nodded, reaching for his arm. 

“Mom’s already inside. It’s too cold out for her. Ready?” She squeezed his arm and he nodded, although he did not feel ready, and he cleared his throat

They stepped into the restaurant and she guided him to the table where their mother sat waiting. She smiled as she saw them and stood to her feet. 

“Hello, Fox,” she said, pulling him close for a hug. He held her for a second and then pulled back. She, like Samantha, held his face in her hands, her eyes taking him in. “I’m so glad you could make it.” 

“Not like I have anything else going on,” he said, letting out a bitter laugh. She caressed his cheeks with her thumbs and he sighed. “Sorry. Of course I would be here. Happy birthday, Mom.” He pulled back from her and handed her the bag on his arm. 

“Oh, how lovely. Thank you, dear. Let’s sit. People are beginning to stare.” She set the bag on the table, the logo facing him and as the waiter came over, he found himself wondering why Dana had chosen that particular logo. What had drawn her to _that_ one. 

“Sir? Would you like a drink?” 

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head and ordering an iced tea. 

Their dinner was good, the conversation light and easy, but he still found himself drifting in and out of it. Hearing updates about people he had known, left him with that angry feeling again; their lives untouched by the pain he was suffering. 

“Hey, you okay?” Samantha asked, touching his back and he looked at her, breathing hard and standing quickly to his feet, knocking into the table and spilling their glasses of water. 

“Fox! What are you doing?” his mother said, reaching for a napkin and looking at him sharply. He stepped away and walked outside. 

He paced along the side of the restaurant, taking deep breaths, his hands clenching and unclenching. The cold air filling his lungs felt good, stinging as he breathed in. 

“Fox.” He heard behind him and he closed his eyes, halting his pacing. Turning around, he opened his eyes and looked at Samantha. She was pulling her coat around her and staring at him with concerned eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“You don’t need to apologize. But I think I do.” 

“What?” 

“I keep pushing you. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re not-”

“I am and I can see that now. Should have seen it before, but I guess I just wanted you to be okay. Wanted to have _you_ back because… I almost lost you.” Her eyes filled with tears and he stepped toward her, pulling her close and sighing. She cried as she clung to him and he closed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I know that…” 

“No, Fox.” She pulled back and she wiped her eyes. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve… Dad dying… and then you shot not long after… it’s been hard on all of us. I know it’s been worse on _you_ , but I… I don’t know how to help and I thought by making you _do_ things it would help you, but I think it’s done the opposite.” 

“No. It hasn’t. It’s not anything you’ve done. I know your heart is in the right place. I’m just… I don’t know. I’m angry a lot of the time and I hate it. That’s not me.” 

“No. No, it’s not.” 

“The medication is helping with the depression I’m still feeling, but the anger… Sam, I can’t describe it.” 

“Fox, you had to make a terrible choice and it nearly cost you your life. And your partner’s life. Of course you’re angry.” She stared at him and he nodded. “The question is what to _do_ with that anger.” 

“I know.” 

“You can’t keep it bottled up and have it explode like it did tonight. I know,” she said, putting up a hand as he started to tell her that was an accident. “That was an accident and barely anything, but I’ve seen it in you and I’ve ignored it. But not anymore.” He nodded, his shoulders slumping. 

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like my mind is racing, but I’m standing still. It’s… it’s like this build up that comes on fast and sometimes goes quickly, but other times, I’m angry for awhile.” 

“What have you done to try and combat it?” 

“I’ve… gone for a run, long walks… I’ve tried meditation… as hooky as I’ve always made it out to be. I’ve tried shooting hoops, but my arm is still a bit too stiff for that.” 

“Which pisses you off.” 

“Which pisses me off, yes.” They both laughed and she smiled at him. He shook his head and sighed. 

“Well, we’ll have to find something that can help you calm your mind. I’m sure there are lots of creative outlets you haven’t thought of.” 

“Creative?” He gave her a look and she laughed. “Can you see me sitting in a park, painting a picture?” 

“Only if you’re wearing a beret,” she teased and he laughed. She linked her arm through his and pulled. “Come on. Let’s go back to the table so Mom can open her gifts. We’ll think of something that brings out the creative side in you.” 

He scoffed and shook his head as they walked inside. He was not a creative person, never had been really. His own insecurities got in the way along with his father’s voice in his ear that anything involving ‘artistic ability’ was for girls. 

Shaking his head again, he sighed as they walked to the table, their mother smiling with relief. 

__________________

An hour and a half later, he closed his front door with a sigh. Dropping his keys on the table, he walked into the kitchen for a beer. Popping it open, he took a long pull and let out a deep breath. 

God, he was exhausted and honestly, he had hardly done anything that day. Shopping, therapy, and dinner. Hardly a rough day and far easier than he’d had in the past eight years as a detective. 

Sighing again, he walked out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. He set down his beer and took off his shoes, looking forward to going to bed. Reaching into his jacket pockets, he took out his wallet and cell phone. 

A piece of paper was stuck down deep in the pocket and he pulled it out, finding the receipt for his mother’s scarf. He stared at it, thinking about Dana and her happy blue eyes. Eyes that had not seen or felt the pain he had. 

His mother had loved the scarf, admiring the rich color and the stitching. Samantha had given him an inquisitive look, the gift not one he would normally choose. He had said only that he had gotten it in a shop as he waited for his appointment, not mentioning Dana or her sister. 

Staring at the receipt, he wondered if she would be interested in hearing how his mother had liked the gift. He felt he rather owed her an apology anyway, acting like an asshole and insinuating her shop had nothing to offer. He should pay her a visit tomorrow and tell her he was sorry. 

Besides, he _really_ wanted to see her again. See her smile, her eyes lighting up as she did. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, with a nod, setting the receipt down on his dresser, and beginning to change his clothes. “Tomorrow.” 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation that begins a path to healing.

Fox stood across the street from the shop, the name of which made him smile- for the first time that day. 

He had woken up to a message on his answering machine from his captain, needing to speak to him and it sent him over the edge. Taking his medication, he had not called him back, but instead he went back to bed, unable to get up for most of the day. 

At 4:30, he had finally called him back. They discussed his therapy and was then brought up to date regarding the progression of the trial. He had been sweaty during the entire exchange, his stomach full of bile at the thought of the trial and recounting the events that had led to the shooting and death of a fifteen year old boy. 

Taking a shower, deep sobs wracking his body, he had washed the sweat and fear from his body. Dressing warmly, he had driven downtown and parked in the parking garage. 

Now, he stood watching Dana as she moved about her store, Knit Knacks, and worried he would be perceived as too forward should he go inside. 

“Shit…” he muttered, hating the insecure way he always seemed to feel recently. Normally, well… he was not overly confident, but he did alright when it came to at least  _ talking _ to women. 

“Okay, start walking. Get over there,” he said quietly, but he did not move. A customer walked out and Dana walked her to the door, turning the sign to the closed side, locking the door and turning around. 

Suddenly he was walking, not even aware he had started moving. A car honked and he jumped, hurrying across the street. 

“Idiot! Watch where you’re going!” A man yelled at him and he waved him away. 

Standing on the sidewalk, his heart began to race at the stupidity of his actions. She did not want to see him. He was just a customer and he had been kidding himself that he needed to do this, as if she had been waiting to hear from him. 

_ Go,  _ he thought.  _ Turn around now.  _

But then, she came out of the back room and saw him standing there, surprise on her face. He raised his hand and she smiled as she walked toward the door. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, attempting a smile and knowing he failed miserably, but she did not seem to notice or care. 

“Hi,” she said as she opened the door, crossing her arms at the gust of cold air that blew in. 

“I… you’re closed. I…” 

“It’s fine.” 

“No. I don’t want to keep you.” 

“You’re not.” She smiled and he let out a breath. “Come in.” 

“I…” 

“Come on.” She held the door open and he sighed as he stepped inside, waiting for her to lock the door again. “Would you like a coffee or some tea?” She walked toward the back as he remained still. 

“She liked the gift,” he called out and she turned around quickly. “My… my mother. She liked the scarf.” 

“Good.” She smiled and tilted her head as she stood, as though waiting for him to continue. 

“She um… she’s usually kind of hard to shop for, so I uh… I appreciate the help.” 

“You’re more than welcome.” Still she waited and he sighed, looking down at the ground, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

“I owe you an apology,” he said, clenching his jaw. 

“Do you?” she asked softly. He looked up and stared at her, nodding his head. 

“I do. I uh…” 

“Can… can I stop you?” she asked quietly, stepping toward him, her hand up, chest high. He nodded, frowning slightly, and she sighed, putting her hands in the pockets of the gray cardigan sweater she wore. 

“I… when you left yesterday, my sister and I were talking and she uh…” She sighed again and licked her lips. “She recognized your name from the paper and…” 

“Right.” He cut her off and took a hand out of his pocket, rubbing at his face and shaking his head. “Right. So, um, if you could let me out..” 

“What?” 

“I get it.” He walked to the door and unlocked it, ready to walk away and never come back. 

“No! Please don’t leave!” She appeared beside him, stopping him from unlocking the next one. “That’s not… please, Fox, don’t…” 

Her hand covered his and he paused, his breathing fast, his heart racing. Her other hand touched his back gently and he closed his eyes, his head dropping forward. They stood for a few moments, her hand rubbing in small circles as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Better?” she whispered and he nodded, still keeping his eyes closed. “Please don’t leave. Let me make you some tea.” She moved her hand to his wrist and squeezed gently. He nodded, lifting his head and glancing at her. She smiled softly and he moved his hand from the door. 

She locked it again, keeping her hand on his back the entire time. He took deep breaths as they walked through the store. She gently guided him past the register, and to a table in the back room. 

“Sit down, please.” She pulled out a chair and he sat, her hand running across his shoulders as she moved about the room. 

He closed his eyes, listening to her making tea. He heard mugs clinking together and tins being opened. Water was poured into the mugs and a cup was placed in front of him. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the liquid in the mug. 

“Do you take sugar or cream?” 

“No. This is fine,” he said, nodding his head at the cup. 

She sat down beside him, her own mug in front of her. He saw a plate of cookies in the center of the small table and his stomach growled. She smiled and pushed the plate toward him. Taking one, he took a small bite, realizing in that moment it was the first thing he had eaten all day. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until he sighed and wiped his hands on the napkin she handed him. 

“Fox,” she said quietly, before he could speak. “I didn’t mean to upset you, or cause any undue stress. I wanted to tell you that I knew who you were simply to let you know you don’t owe me any apologies.” 

“I was short with you. My anger-”

“Is completely understandable.” He looked at her, at this person he did not know, and saw understanding in her eyes. She smiled softly and he nodded, looking back down at his mug. 

“I… I’m still sorry. That’s not me. I’m not…” 

“No. I rather think it’s not,” she agreed and he looked at her again. 

“How could you possibly know that? You don’t know me. You have no idea about me.” It came out harsher than he intended and he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose. 

“That’s how I know.” He opened his eyes and stared at her, finding her watching him with a nod. “If it was you, you wouldn’t care how you just spoke to me. You wouldn’t care about the tone and how, subconsciously, you spoke that way to push me away and to stop any further questions.” He stared at her and she held his gaze. 

“You sound like a shrink,” he said with a deep sigh and she laughed softly. 

“Well, I suppose that makes sense, seeing as I have a bachelor's in psychology.” He frowned and she laughed again. 

“What are you doing here then? Why didn’t you pursue it? Or a field in which you could use it instead of wasting it here?” She raised her eyebrows and he exhaled, hearing what he just said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He shook his head and rubbed a hand across his mouth. 

“Apology accepted,” she said, picking up her mug and taking a drink. “You aren’t the first person to ask that question and I’m sure you won’t be the last.” She set her mug down and folded her hands on the table. He watched her, waiting to see if she would continue. With a nod, she took a deep breath. 

“When I graduated, the plan was to continue with a master’s degree, but… life happens.” She sighed and looked down at her hands. “My father became very ill and my mother couldn’t take care of him on her own. My older brother was in the military with no hope to come home. My sister was… I don’t even remember where she was and my younger brother was in college. He deserved to finish his time there.”

“But not you?” 

“I had. Technically.” She smiled and he shook his head. “Caring for my father was more important. Helping my mother not only care for him, but to ready her and all of us for the inevitable day when he would leave us, that was where I was needed.” He stared at her and she smiled again. 

He had been wrong. She was not untouched by pain and sadness, as he had thought. In all honesty, what person could say they were? It was not the same, but she understood. 

“So why not… after he had passed, which I’m assuming he did, why not go back to school?” She laughed and shook her head. 

“When he did pass, four years ago… it was hard. We knew it was coming, but it was still tough. I became very depressed. My life had revolved around caring for him and my mother, and suddenly I had no purpose. I didn’t… I was lost for a while.” She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “My brother had been in the Gulf War and when he came back, he wasn’t himself. He was angry and mean. He… yelled, broke things, things my mother loved dearly. He would cry and beg for forgiveness, but… he wouldn’t hear of getting any help.” She shook her head and ran her finger around the rim of the cup. 

“He had PTSD.” 

“He did. But he also was a military man.” She looked at him and he nodded in understanding. “He was supposed to be tough and handle things on his own, but he couldn’t. I tried to help him but, nothing I had learned would reach him. Not until he was ready to hear it. By the time he did, I was exhausted mentally and emotionally. I had been deep in the psyche of others and I… I didn’t want to do it anymore. I wanted happiness and light.” She smiled and looked around the room. 

He did the same, truly noticing it for the first time. The room was the same teal as the logo and the wall in the shop. Shelves were full of baskets of colorful yarn, gift bags, boxes of items to replace ones when they were purchased; everything happy and light, just as she said. 

“I used the money my father left me to buy this shop and it has become the happiness in my life that I wanted. That I  _ needed _ .” She smiled at him and he nodded with a small smile of his own. “And, I still get to help people. Just… in a different way.” 

“I’m sorry. I made it seem… small and silly, but I see it differently now. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” 

“You didn’t.” She smiled and touched his arm, rubbing it before moving her hand. “I know that not everyone sees it or feels it the way I do, but this is where I’m supposed to be.” 

“Have you always enjoyed knitting?” 

“God, no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I thought it was for old ladies. But, when my father was ill, my mother and I had a lot of empty time. She suggested we knit and I laughed it off, but when she showed me how, I discovered that when I kept my hands busy, my mind slowed down, focusing only on the task in front of me.” 

“Is that right?” he asked softly, an idea forming as preposterous as it seemed to him. 

“It is.” 

He stared at her, trying to say the words he wanted to ask, but unable to get them out. She smiled and he nodded, feeling defeated. 

“I know that what I went through is not the same as  _ your _ experience, but… I see the same anger and frustration in you as I saw in my brother and have seen in others. Are you seeing a therapist?” 

If anyone else outside of his family had asked that question he would have told them to fuck off and mind their own business. But when the question came from her, with her blue eyes searching his, and the concerned look on her face, he found he could not be angry. 

“I have to. It’s part of my suspension. Part of the… how I… it’s ordered.” 

“But it’s helping.” 

“You tell me,” he huffed and she nodded, searching his face. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t need to apologize.” 

“I’m not usually such an asshole.” 

“You have every right to feel the way you do, Fox.” He looked at her as she touched his arm again, leaving her hand there this time. “It’s your decision if you want to talk about it, if you even  _ can _ talk about it. I read what was in the paper when my sister brought it to me. If you can’t or don’t want to discuss it, you don’t have to. We can just have our tea.” 

“I don’t know how much I can tell someone outside of work. I don’t…” 

“I understand. Would you like some more tea?” 

“Please.” 

A half an hour later, she was walking with him to the door. He felt better than he had in ages and he wanted to tell her before he left, but his tongue felt tied, heavy in his mouth. 

“Well, I’m glad you came by to tell me how your mother enjoyed her gift, it’s always nice to know when a gift is appreciated, especially when you’re the one who made it.” 

“What? You made that scarf?” 

“Hmm, I did.” 

“I didn’t know.” 

“No. We didn’t discuss it.” She smiled at him and he took a deep breath, the words he wanted to say suddenly loosened. 

“You said that knitting helped you to… forget, for your mind to shut down and focus.” 

“Yes.” 

“I… I’m having that same problem. My mind runs faster than I can handle at times.” She nodded with a smile and he took courage in it. “Do you… my sister suggested finding an outlet and you’ve done the same. I… do you think that, God, this sounds crazy, but do you think you would be willing to teach me how to knit?” He laughed and shook his head, the fact that he was asking her that question feeling like a joke, but he was serious. 

“I could do you one better,” she said with a smile and walked to the register, picking something up and coming back to him. “Tomorrow night, we have an… informal class. 6:30. Just be here, we provide the yarn and the lesson.” She handed him a card advertising a  _ ‘night of knitting and chit chat at Knit Knacks.’  _ He looked up at her and she nodded encouragingly. 

“I… okay. I’ll try to be here.” 

“Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you again.” She touched his upper arm and squeezed, her smile wide. 

“I said I’ll try.” 

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, moving her hand and walking toward the door. Unlocking and opening it, she grinned at him. “6:30. Don’t be late.” He put the card in his pocket and nodded, already knowing he would be there. 

“I’ll try,” he said again, touching her upper arm and she drew in a sharp breath, her eyes holding his own. 

“Try really hard,” she whispered and he squeezed her arm gently. He walked out the door and turned around. 

“Thank you. For letting me in and… taking care of me today. I…” 

“You’re welcome, Fox. See you tomorrow.” 

She closed the door, not waiting for him to reply either way. Her eyebrow was up, as though challenging him to say something, but he only smiled and waved goodbye as he turned around and headed to the parking garage. 

He felt different, his step lighter than it had been in a very long time. Hopeful, that was what it was. And it was not the idea of finding an outlet in crafting something from needles and yarn, as he highly doubted he would be any good at it. 

No, it was because of the woman who offered to help. Who literally brought him in from the cold, warmed him with cups of tea, and shared the story of her own pain. 

He would be there tomorrow. 

And he would not be late. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the hands are busy, the mind can focus...

After a day spent worrying and fretting, Fox parked his car and took a deep breath. It was already completely dark outside and snow was in the forecast. The air was still and he knew by the time he left, there was an extreme possibility the ground would be covered in a late winter snow. 

Opening the door, he shivered as he closed the door and walked away from the car. He buttoned his coat and blew into his hands as he walked out of the parking garage. 

People walked past, heading home from their work day. He moved out of the way of a group of women, chatting and laughing about their weekend plans. Keeping his head down, he crossed the street; safely this time. 

The shop was brightly lit, especially against the ones that were already dark. He could see women inside, about five or six, laughing at something. It was still ten minutes until 6:30 and he nervously paced aways back, not sure he should head inside yet and not wanting her to see him accidentally. 

A couple of women walked past him, chatting happily and carrying dishes of food. They walked inside the shop and he could hear happy greetings before the door closed. Taking a deep breath, he waited until he saw the women clear away to the other side of the room before he walked toward the door. 

Opening it, he stepped inside and walked to the register where he saw an older woman standing, swaying slightly to the music that was quietly playing. She looked up and smiled warmly at him. 

“Hello! Oh, you must be Fox.” She put out her hand and he stared at her as he shook it. “Dana said you would be here and to keep an eye out for you.” She squeezed his hand gently and then let it go.

“How did you know who I was?” She laughed and looked behind him and he did the same as he turned around. 

Now that he was in the shop, he could see it was quite a few people - all women. They were chattering away as they said food on for the end tables that have been set up for that purpose. Most of the women were middle aged, but some were younger. 

“Oh, I see,” he said quietly, turning to look back at the woman. She smiled again and he saw nothing but kindness in her eyes. 

“I’m Maggie. Maggie Scully. I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Your Dana’s mother,” he stated and she nodded. “You-”

“You made it!” He turned to his right and saw Dana walking towards them holding a large empty basket, a big smile on her face. “I’m so happy to see you.” 

“Can I help you?” he asked, reaching for the basket. 

“No, I’m good. Need to take this to the back and I’ll be out again. Mom, Mrs. Hung was asking about a stitch you showed her last week.” 

“Oh! Right. Excuse me. It’s nice to have you here, Fox.” She touched his arm and he watched her walk over to the group of happy and smiling women. 

“So… you freaked out yet?” Dana asked and he looked back at her. She was smiling, but he saw concern in her eyes. He smiled and took off his coat. 

“Not yet.” 

“Good.” She sighed and excused herself, his eyes following her as she did. 

_______________

An hour later, he had a feeling this might not be the outlet for him. While there were some just starting out, most of them were quite adept and the fast click of their needles fairly hypnotized him. 

“Fox? Were you able to cast on?” He looked at the kind smiling woman standing before him and he sighed. 

“Mrs. Scully, to be completely honest, I don’t know if I can do this. Casting on, isn’t too hard, but the rest…” He shook his head and showed her how the yarn was stretched out and also somehow incredibly tight around the large needle. 

“Let’s see what’s going on,” she said, taking it from him and patting his shoulder. “And please, call me Maggie.” 

“I’m sorry but, my strict New England upbringing prohibits me from doing so. Even as an adult.” Shaking his head again, she looked at him and laughed softly. 

“Understood.” He smiled and she unwrapped the yarn from the needle, taking it off completely. “I think it may be best to start over.” 

“If only everything was so easy,” he said quietly and she nodded. 

“Isn’t that the truth?” He looked at her and he saw sadness behind her small smile. But then she touched his shoulder gently, and the sadness passed. “Would you like me to show you again?” He nodded and leaned forward, eager to try it again, though he knew it was most likely for naught. 

As she demonstrated, for at least the third time that evening, he heard Dana laugh and he smiled. Her laugh was infectious and he cut his eyes in her direction, finding her laughing with two women whose names escaped him. Eyes closed, hand on her chest as she laughed, he looked away, not wanting to be caught staring. 

Especially with her mother standing right in front of him. 

“So, that’s pretty much it. Is that any clearer?” 

“Uhh… I’d like to say yes, but…” He smiled at her, taking the needle back from her and staring at it. “I’m a very intelligent person, you’d think I could figure this out.” He shook his head and she laughed, patting his shoulder as she went to check on the other people in the group. 

A young girl, about ten, sat beside him. She was one of the women’s granddaughters, and she was in deep concentration, the stitches of her bright pink yarn straight and neat. She finished with the row of stitches and smiled proudly as she turned the needle and began to start again. 

“Wow, you caught on really fast,” he said and she looked up at him with a grin. 

“Thanks. This is actually my second time. Miss Maggie showed me how to cast on last time and how to start with the stitches but then we had to go. I had a soccer game the next day and my mom wanted me home early. You’re doing a good job, except…” She set her needles down and took his one from him. “You’re holding your needle too tight. Here, try this.” He smiled as he watched her, the dark grey yarn he had chosen beginning to become  _ something _ under her capable hands. 

“So, try it like that and it should be better.” 

“Thank you…” 

“Emilia.” 

“Emilia, right. Thank you for your help.” 

“You’re welcome.” She smiled as she handed him back his needle and he stared at it, shaking his head. It really was simple… and yet. 

“How are you doing?” He heard and looked up to see Dana. She smiled at him and then looked at Emilia. “Whoa, Emilia… you’re doing great. Wonderful stitches and a beautiful color.” 

“Thank you, Miss Dana. Grandma gave me some of her old needles and I was practicing this past week. But I didn’t really like the yarn I had. This one is much prettier.” Emilia smiled and ran her fingers over the yarn. 

“You’re doing a great job.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Emilia! Come over her and tell Mrs. Puckett about your soccer game.” 

“Yes, Grandma! Be right back!” She set her knitting down in her chair and ran to speak to her grandmother. Dana moved the needles and held them in her lap as she sat down in the empty seat. 

“So, how are you doing?” she asked quietly and he nodded at his needle. 

“This is about as far as I’ve gotten. And that was thanks to your mother and Emilia. Otherwise, I think it would be a pile of yarn on the floor and these needles would either be thrown into the wall or up into the ceiling.” She laughed as she glanced up, the ceiling quite high. 

“Well, that’s good then.” He nodded and sighed as he set the needles down and shook his head. “Maybe you didn’t get very far, but did it help? Have you been able to… shut off?” Smiling, he nodded and looked around the room. 

“Honestly… when the night started, this would have been the last place I thought I would find some kind of peace, but…” He shook his head and looked back at her. “I think this might be the first time I’ve been able to shut it down. To not feel that anger bubbling up when people seem happy around me.” 

“It’s different with them?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know why.” 

“Hmm… maybe it’s not that they are overly happy, but… behaving and experiencing every day life and finding happiness in it.” He stared at her and she smiled softly, touching his knee with her own. “I know that may not be what you want to hear, and if someone had said that to me after my father died, I would have told them to get fucked.” He raised his eyebrows and she laughed quietly. 

“Well…” he said, smiling at her. She shrugged and he nodded. “I understand what you’re saying and I know there’s truth to it.” He nodded again and she smiled. “Thank you for asking me to be here tonight.” 

“Thank you for coming.” They stared and smiled at one another, not seeming to notice they were doing it. 

“Dana? Should we set out the dessert?” Her mother called and she nodded, still looking at him. 

“Do you want some help?” he asked and she shook her head. Standing up, she set Emilia’s knitting down and walked away, looking back at him with a smile. 

His eyes fell onto his needle and yarn and he shook his head as he saw how truly bad he had been at it. Emilia came back and picked up her own needles, smiling at him and walking towards the table laden with desserts. 

When he left nearly an hour later, snow had indeed begun to cover the ground. It was not too thick, but it was still coming down, and he knew it was only a matter of time. 

Moving the bag on his arm, he took out his keys as he entered the parking garage. He unlocked the door, put the bag on the passenger seat and turned on the car, rubbing his hands together to warm them. Glancing at the bag, he laughed as he thought about what was inside of it. 

Dana had given him the needles and two skeins of yarn. Her mother had written down the instructions step-by-step to help him practice once he got home, and Emilia had told him to keep trying and showed him again how to hold the needles. 

The women in the group had created a container of leftovers for him to take, especially after discovering he was single, no doubt believing he could not cook adequately for himself. He had thanked them, happy to have some food to eat as he actually did not have much of anything in his cupboards. 

As the car became warmer, he thought back to how he had felt while in the shop. Normally, a large group of chatty women would have sent him turning the other way. That had been a large part of his childhood and it was one he avoided as an adult. 

But tonight… tonight it had been comforting and the time had passed quickly. He had not been overly chatty with anyone, but had enjoyed listening to them chatting as he ate and observing everyone, his detective’s eyes taking it all in. 

He had a good time, he had to admit it, and it was not just because he was around Dana, though he would have been just as happy if it was just the two of them. It was as though the worries of the world waited outside, only happiness allowed within the little shop. 

He chuckled as he turned the heater on, the car finally warm enough, and aimed the vents towards him. He put his hands in front of them, the warmth slightly stinging his cold fingers, before he backed up and drove out of the garage. 

Looking at the shop as he was stopped at the light, he saw Dana and her mother standing in the middle of the shop in conversation. Dana laughed, shaking her head and her mother smiled, shrugging with her hands up. She rubbed her mother’s arm and they walked their separate ways. The light turned green and he slowly pulled through the intersection, mindful of the snow on the ground. 

“Happiness and light,” he said in the silence of the car with a smile and a shake of his head. “She definitely got what she wanted.” 

_________________

“You’re doing what?” Samantha asked as they shared a late lunch after his therapy appointment. “Did you say you’re  _ knitting?” _

“No. I said I’m  _ learning  _ to knit.” 

“I’m not hearing a difference.” He laughed happily and she looked at him in surprise. “Wow… I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time.” Her eyes filled with tears and she reached for her napkin, dabbing at her eyes. 

“Oh, Sam. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize. These are happy tears.” She started crying harder and he moved his chair closer, putting an arm around her shoulders. She turned her head and cried into his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his neck. 

They were quiet, the waiter walking up and then away as Fox shook his head. He rubbed Samantha’s arm as her tears began to subside. She pulled back and wiped at her eyes again, letting out a deep breath. 

“We can’t make this a thing- crying in restaurants- it’s embarrassing,” she said from behind her napkin and he chuckled as he rubbed her back. She shook her head and blew out a loud breath. “Okay. I’m alright now.” She looked at him and he nodded, moving his chair back. 

“God, Fox. That was seriously the last thing I expected to hear you say. I mean, we joked about you wearing a beret as you painted in the park… but this… I never expected this.” He snorted and shook his head. 

_ “You  _ never expected it? Imagine  _ my  _ surprise.” He widened his eyes at her and she laughed, a small sob escaping. She shook her head and rolled her eyes with a laugh. 

“How did that even come about?” He smiled and told her about going back to apologize to Dana, knowing he had behaved inappropriately. 

“Long story short… she suggested this group thing she does on Friday evenings. People come to her shop and spend time knitting, eating, and talking.” 

“Fox… you’re describing our childhood. Minus the knitting of course.” She gave him a look and he nodded with a laugh. 

“Honestly, that was what I thought at first, but it wasn’t like that at all. I hated those parties when we were younger. All the women with their many perfumes mingling together. Always being dressed up and not allowed to play so we wouldn’t dirty our clothes…” He shuddered and she laughed with a nod. “It’s not like that though, Sam.” 

“What’s it like then?” 

“It’s… it’s casual and comfortable. It’s… inviting and… when I was there, for two hours I didn’t think about anything. I was focused on what was in front of me, listened to others speaking, and just was able to shut it off for a little while.” He smiled at her and she shook her head as her eyes filled with tears again. “Sam…” He sighed and she waved him away. 

“That makes me so happy to hear. Happy tears, I promise.” He reached for her hand and she took his with a squeeze. “I think you’ve found your outlet.” He laughed and shrugged. 

“We’ll see.” 

________________

And for a month, he  _ had _ found an outlet that helped. Every Friday he was there, sitting with Emilia as together, they became better at knitting, though she far surpassed him within two weeks. She helped him and showed him how best to do his stitches. 

He enjoyed all the food brought in, different types from different cultures, and he always left with a container of leftovers, eating the food for a few days. He even attempted to recreate the recipes himself, finding that he also found peace in cooking; something he had not experienced before. 

He also enjoyed getting to know Dana better. She was funny and kind, her teasing smile one he liked to see the most. Her eyes would light up as she poked good spirited fun at herself and others. Often they would have a cup of tea before he left; just the two of them after the others had gone home. 

He knew he was in no shape at the moment, as he constantly reminded himself every time he left, but he was falling in love with her. With the way she cared for others, her positive outlook, her kindness, and her ability to make others feel at ease. 

And her beauty, which she did not even seem to be aware of, her concern lying elsewhere. She was beautiful and he could not stop himself from staring at her, her blue eyes pulling at him like a magnet. 

Those Fridays became bright spots in his week, his therapist noting that he was beginning to seem better and take control of his healing process. 

But then, his life was flipped upside down and everything became about meetings with lawyers, depositions, recounting his version of events over and over, and he slipped back into his depression. He stayed home, away from people, turned off his phone and spoke to no one. Until Samantha came in using her key and physically pulled him from his bed. 

She made him toast and tea, gently reprimanding him for traveling down that dark path again and not leaving her a way to find him. 

“I know, Fox. I do,” she said with her hand up to stop him from speaking. “But you can’t disappear like that. I will be here for you, even if it means sitting here and saying nothing for hours. Please, Fox.” He nodded, his head down. She rubbed his back and he sighed. 

“Can you do me a favor?” he asked quietly. 

“I can do whatever you need,” she answered, still rubbing his back. 

“Could you hand me some paper and a pen? Then take this note to Dana at her shop?” He took the items she handed him and she nodded. 

“Of course.” 

“Gotta leave a breadcrumb trail, right?” He looked at her as she sat beside him and she shook her head. 

“Breadcrumbs can be eaten and are far too small.” He nodded, suddenly very tired, but wanting to write the note before he went back to bed. 

He wrote her a note of apology, explained why he was not showing up on Friday nights, and expressed hope that he would be back soon. Samantha brought him an envelope and he placed the letter inside. He handed it to her, Dana’s name and the address of the shop written upon it. 

“I need to go back to bed. Thank you for coming over. I…” 

“Always. I’ll always be here when you need me.” He stood up and pulled her in for a hug. 

“Thank you, Sammy.” 

“Hey, what have I said about that nickname?” 

“That you love it,” he said with a small smile. 

“Sure I do,  _ Foxy,”  _ she teased as she stepped back and he chuckled softly. She stroked his cheek and nodded. “I’ll take this to her today and be back to check on you tomorrow.” He nodded and started to walk back to his bedroom, feeling tired down to his bones. 

He laid down and was asleep before Samantha had shut the door. 

____________________

When he woke again, it was to a warm glow from the small lamp on his dresser. He closed his eyes to the brightness, listening as Samantha shuffled around the room. 

“You didn’t have to come back tonight, you said tomorrow,” he said, his voice thick from sleep. 

“You actually didn’t specify if you wanted me here. I took it upon myself to come over.” His eyes flew open and saw Dana standing there, her red hair shining in the light, her eyes seeming bluer than ever. 

“How…?” 

“Your sister let me in. She’s in the kitchen putting away the food we brought over from the ladies in the group. You won’t be lacking food for a while.” She smiled and he started to sit up. “Hey, here.” She helped him, adjusting his pillows as he leaned back, closing his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered and she hummed softly. 

He felt her sit on the bed beside him and he opened his eyes. She took his hand and held it in both of hers, staring at him in concern. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I was worried about you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t be sorry. I understand. I just…” She sighed and he squeezed her hands. “I didn’t know how to reach you and I…” 

“I know. My sister said the same. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“Thank you for the letter. I hope it was okay that I told the others. They were worried too.” 

“Do they…” 

“They only know you’re dealing with a personal situation.” 

“Thank you. And please thank them for the food.” 

“I will.” 

They were quiet for a bit, her eyes on his and seeming to say things without speaking. 

“What happens now?” 

“There will be a trial. I can’t talk about it with anyone other than those involved. I thought it would be best if I pulled away. This is… I’m…” He did not know what to say, how to explain exactly how it was affecting him. 

“I know.” She squeezed his hand and let go with one of hers, brushing his hair back and stroking his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “You do what needs doing, Fox. Just… please don’t disappear again. I… I can’t…” He opened his eyes and stared at her, falling further in love with her, as hard as he tried to stop it. 

“I won’t. I promise.” 

“Good.” 

He squeezed her hand and she leaned forward, laying her head gently on his chest. He closed his eyes as the scent of her hair filled his nose. She shifted until she was lying beside him, his arm around her and hers wrapped around his waist, her head on his shoulder. 

He took a deep breath and listened to her breathing, the sound of it calming and pulling him to sleep. 

  
  



	4. Chapter Four

_Mid June 1996_

Fox took off his suit jacket and tossed it, not caring where it landed. His tie was next and he dropped it as he unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt. Walking into the kitchen, he paused as he saw a note on the dining room table. 

_Fox,_

_There are some casseroles in the fridge. Mrs. Puckett made you one of her famous apple pies and insisted I buy some vanilla ice cream when I brought it over, so there’s some in the freezer. I hope your day wasn’t too stressful, although I know it most likely was._

_Love,_

_Dana_

It was the _love_ that kept him rooted to the spot, ignoring the growling of his stomach. He stared at the word and despite the horrible day he had, he could not help but smile. 

Two weeks after Samantha had let her in, he had waited outside the shop until everyone left the knitting group. Knocking on the door, she had silently allowed him inside, her hand grazing his arm. As they drank their tea, he had pushed a key with a teal ribbon looped through it, across the table to her. 

“What is this?” she had asked, staring at him. 

“I… I know it’s forward-”

“Incredibly so. Two months we’ve known each other. We’re not… we don’t…” She had shaken her head and he had sighed with a nod. 

“I know. And I’m not asking anything from you. I just…” He had sighed again and ran a hand across his mouth. “I’m not usually a trusting person, but I trust you.” He had stared at her, trying to tell her so much, but the words getting caught in his throat. “I can’t explain it, but I trust you.” She had stared at him and slowly nodded, her hand covering his and he had grasped her fingers like a lifeline. 

So, for the past few months she had come into his apartment like a fairy ninja- small but mighty. She had left him encouraging notes, items she had knitted- her mind obviously needing to shut off for a while, and food. So much food, that sometimes he had to take it to his neighbors as he would never eat it all before it spoiled. 

As the preparation for the trial began to consume him, she had become his saving grace, showing up when even he had not known he needed her. 

Bringing over a movie, popcorn, and candy one night, they had sat silently in the dark, her hand in his, her thumb stroking in slow circles. 

One afternoon, after a long night of insomnia, he had woken to find a small bouquet of daffodils in a vase on his dining room table. 

_To brighten even the darkest day,_ the accompanying note had said and he had smiled, his fingers tracing over her words. 

One night he had gotten up, once more unable to sleep and intended to take a drive to help clear his head. When he opened the door however, he had found a brown paper bag. Inside there had been two boxes of tea and a black tea kettle in a box. One box of tea had been flavored and the other only chamomile. 

_To help you sleep,_ she had written on the box and he had shaken his head as he brought the items inside, wondering when she had been there and why she had not brought it inside. 

He had unboxed and washed the tea kettle, filled it with water and took two bags of chamomile from the box. Pacing as he waited for the water to boil, he had thought about calling her, but decided to wait until morning. 

He drank his tea slowly after it had cooled slightly. Taking out the needles and yarn, hoping the combination of the two would help, he had knitted a few rows before his eyes had begun to grow heavy. Drinking the last swallow of tea, he had set his knitting down and put the mug in the sink. He made his way to the bedroom and fell into bed with a sigh, finally able to sleep. 

During all of the stress and worry, she had been there, helping to keep him sane.

Shaking his head as he set her note down, he walked into the kitchen to get a piece of the apple pie Mrs. Puckett had made. She was an amazing cook and when he had the time again, he wanted to ask her for some recipes. 

Opening the fridge, it sat front and center, causing his mouth to water. Taking it out, he placed it on the counter and took out a knife, setting it on the counter to grab a plate, foregoing dinner for a slice of something sweet. 

“Really? Without me?” 

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, not having heard the door opening. 

“Sorry,” Dana said with a smirk and he shook his head, his heart pounding. 

“I didn’t hear you come in. Maybe I should rethink that key I gave you.” He narrowed his eyes at her and she hummed. 

“I don’t think you really mean that.” She opened the freezer and took out the vanilla bean ice cream, placing it beside the pie. He smiled at her choice, as she always chose the most decadent of brands, insisting that ice cream was not the place where one should save money. 

“I don’t mean it. You’ve got me there.” She hummed again as she took out the silverware and ice cream scooper. 

“Come on, I’ve been waiting for you to come home so I could have some of this pie.” 

“Oh… you’ve been waiting for me?” She stared at him and he knew she had, knowing what today had been. “Right.”

He nodded and lightly rubbed her back before he took down two bowls and cut the pie. She added two scoops of ice cream for each of them, placed spoons inside the bowls, and took them to the table. He poured them each a glass of milk, put the ice cream back in the freezer, and joined her. 

They ate and drank in silence, aside from their occasional hums of pleasure. When it was down to the last bit of ice cream, she looked at him and he sighed. Setting his spoon down, he nodded. 

“It was hard,” he said quietly. “Hearing my partner talk about that day, hearing her version of events… Even though we were both there, what we saw and experienced was similar, but also different. Our stories line up, but what I remember is slightly altered from hers.” 

“What did she say? You can talk about it now as she’s already had her time in the stand?” 

“Yeah. I’m up tomorrow. So…” 

“I understand.” 

“She told them that that day we had been called out, following a lead on a case. We didn’t know there was anyone in the empty building, weren’t sure anyway.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “We had our weapons out, just in case, sweeping the rooms as we cleared them. I didn’t see him. Didn’t…” 

And then suddenly he was back there, in that room, hearing the sound of footsteps as everything seemed to slow down. The kid walked in front of him and stopped, a gun in his hand. 

Yelling for him to drop it, his partner Eve Lansing, appeared beside him. They both yelled for him to put the gun down but he did not, holding it on them, his eyes scared. His arm swung towards Eve and Fox saw his finger squeezing the trigger. 

He stepped in front of her, shielding her and aiming his weapon at the kid. They shot at the same time, the kid’s shot hitting his shoulder and his own hitting the kid’s chest, dropping him to the ground. 

“After that moment… it’s a bit hazy. I remember hearing Eve screaming my name, heard her calling in our location, and then the pressure of her hands on me. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up the next day.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. 

Tears were running down her cheeks and her hands were covering her mouth. His leg began to bounce nervously, not knowing what to say. She wiped her eyes and reached for his hand. He grasped it and she shook her head. 

“I had no idea,” she whispered. “Why… why did you step in front of her? You… you nearly died.” 

“Eve has a husband and a little girl, not even two years old. I couldn’t… she couldn’t grow up without her mom.” 

“Oh, Fox.” She reached forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her, closing his eyes once again. “I’m so sorry that happened. So sorry.” 

“I didn’t mean to kill him. I would never want that.” He shook his head, tears pricking at his eyes. “But I had to protect her and her family.” 

He felt her nod and he held her tighter as they sat in silence, finding comfort in being held. 

____________________

He stood on the large porch of his family’s lake house, the September air warm, and took a deep breath as he looked out at the water. 

“So... how long are you planning on staying out here?” Samantha asked, setting down a bag of groceries. He turned around and smiled at her. 

“I don’t know. Maybe a month?” 

“Or as long as you can stand being away from Dana,” she teased and he shrugged, knowing she was right. 

“The trial is over and even though it went as I had thought it would, I quit my job. I just couldn’t go back there. These past few months have been hard, despite the positive aspects of it-”

“Like Dana?” She grinned and he nodded with a smile. 

“Especially Dana.”

“Ooooo, Fox and Dana sitting in a tree,” she sang and he tried to grab her. She escaped his grasp, laughing as she did. 

“How old are you?” he asked and she stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed. 

“So when is she coming up?” She started to empty the bags of groceries and he joined her. 

“What makes you think she is?” She gave him a look and he laughed. 

“Wine, chocolates, these cookies which I know _Dana_ likes… yeah you’re not the only detective. Oh... you know what I mean.” She shook her head and he nodded, taking the cookies from her. 

“Friday after work and she’s staying for the weekend.” 

_“Reeeeeeally?”_ she drawled with a grin and he shook his head. 

“Nothing like that. Stop.” 

“What? Really?” 

“We’re taking things slow. It’s what I need right now. I don’t want to mess this up. She means a lot to me.” 

“I know she does. I can see it.” She smiled and patted his face. “You deserve a woman like her.” He smiled and they continued putting away the groceries. 

__________________

“I can’t believe you made this yourself. It’s so good,” Dana said, dipping her bread in the remaining tomato sauce on her plate and putting it in her mouth. 

“Are you suggesting I can’t make a meal?” he teased and she smiled. 

“I wasn’t _directly,_ but…” He laughed and picked up their plates, taking them to the kitchen. She followed with the other dishes and they quickly cleaned the kitchen. 

“How about a glass of wine on the porch?” he asked and she smiled. 

“That sounds great. I’m just gonna use the bathroom real quick.” 

Pouring them each another glass of wine, he brought them onto the porch and went back inside for a couple of blankets. It was warm during the day, but the nights were sometimes chilly. 

When she came out, she was wearing the gray cardigan he knew she loved. The pockets were deep and she had often expressed how all clothes should have similar pockets. 

He handed her her glass and a blanket as they sat in the porch chairs. They were quiet as they listened to the water lapping against the dock and the crickets singing around them. 

“Dana?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I wanted to thank you for these past few months.” 

“Fox-”

“No. Please let me say this,” he said, setting his glass down and turning towards her. “I didn’t… I knew I was angry and I knew I was taking it out on people who didn’t deserve it, but it’s as if I didn’t know how much until we spoke. Until you shared your story and it seemed _okay_ that I was feeling the way I had been. My therapist told me, but…” He smiled at her and she reached out her hand to him. He took it and stared at her fingers as he ran his thumb over them. 

“You saved me, as corny as you may think that sounds, you did. Your kindness and acceptance when others had judged me for what happened, it meant everything to me. You didn’t have to do that, you could have asked me to leave and I would have understood.” He shook his head as he raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he stared at her. “Thank you, Dana. For seeing me. For saving me.” 

“Fox…” She pushed up from the chair and sat on his knee, her arms around his neck. He held her, his heart beginning to repair as she whispered his name, her fingers rubbing his neck. 

The first time he kissed her, a bullfrog croaked very close and extremely loud, causing him to jump, and she laughed against his lips. 

_______________________

“So you think I can do this?” he asked Mrs. Scully quietly as they stood at the food table decorated with witches and ghosts. They were taking a break from the usual knitting and he was adding his latest baking endeavor- peanut butter and marshmallow squares. 

“Yum!” Emilia said, grabbing one and running away. He laughed and looked at Mrs. Scully. 

“Seriously? You think I can.” 

“I do. And I’ll help with anything you need.” 

“Thank you.” 

And so a secret project began, one that was incredibly difficult to hide from Dana as she was always with him, but he would not have it any other way. 

He took two weeks away from her, telling her he had a vacation planned with his mom and sister. But, there was no vacation planned and instead he went to Mrs. Scully’s home and she showed him how to knit and purl, use different needles, and knit in the round. He was overwhelmed at first, but as he became more sure of himself, he found he _could_ do it. 

He knitted until late in the night, finally finding his insomnia good for something. It was not a perfect job, but for his first attempt, he was quite proud of how well he did. Mrs. Scully did have to step in sometimes when he simply could not figure it out. The needles fairly flew, as though enchanted, when they were held in her capable fingers. 

He smiled as he watched it taking shape, excited for the moment when he would be able to show Dana what he had accomplished. 

He had asked what her favorite color was, which yarn she would pick if she were to give a gift to someone she really cared about. She had smiled and walked to the wall of yarn, taking down the periwinkle. 

“This one. I always think I’d like to make something for myself in this color, but…” 

“Why haven’t you?” 

“I don’t know. It seems too… nice to use on _me_. Like it should be a special occasion or I don’t know. But I would definitely make someone else a gift with it.” She had smiled and he nodded, touching the soft yarn. 

Someone had called to her and when Mrs. Scully had walked by, he asked her to get as many as he would need to make Dana a sweater, because she deserved to have something made for her with that yarn. 

It was finished just before Christmas and he was nervous with excitement on Christmas Eve when she came over to spend the evening with him. 

Snow covered her gray knitted cap and her coat when he opened the door, surprised she had not let herself in. 

“I couldn’t get to my keys,” she laughed, her hands full of bags of gifts. He took them from her, but still she stood in the doorway. 

“Have you become a vampire? Do I need to invite you in?” he teased and she laughed, shaking her head. “Then what…” She pulled something from her pocket and he laughed when she handed it to him. 

“No bullfrogs tonight,” he whispered as he held the mistletoe over her head and leaned in to kiss her. She laughed, grabbing handfuls of his shirt, and kissed him back. 

Lifting her slightly, he brought her inside, spinning her around and setting her back down. She giggled as she took off her hat and unbuttoned her coat. 

“God, it smells good in here,” she said as she took off her coat and he smiled at her dark green sensible sweater. 

“I’m glad you think so, I’ve made everything from scratch.” 

“Have you really? You’re becoming quite the chef.” He smiled and she kissed him again before walking into the kitchen and sniffing loudly. 

They had a delicious meal of ham, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls he had made that were nearly lighter than air. She ate three of them and had two helpings of ham before she groaned and leaned back, rubbing at her stomach. 

“Seriously, that was delicious.” 

“Thank you.” He smiled and she grinned. “Should we open gifts?” 

“Yes!” She jumped up and he laughed, watching her take out the gifts from her bags. 

Soon there was a little pile before him where he sat cross legged on the floor. A stocking was laid on top and his eyes widened. 

“I uh… I wasn’t expecting this.” 

“You’re dealing with the Scully women now. You’re lucky I didn’t show up with a tree and decorations. Next year that might be different, so be prepared.” 

“Next year?” he asked hopefully and she stared at him. 

“I hope so,” she whispered and he nodded happily. “Okay! Stocking first!” 

“Then you should get yours too,” he said, nodding to the green stocking hanging from the fireplace. She jumped up excitedly and he laughed. Coming back to join him, they sat staring at each other as they held their stockings. 

“Same time?” 

“Okay!” She smiled and they dumped out their stockings. 

He laughed at the things she had placed inside. A little magnet shaped like a ball of yarn, chocolate kisses, a Rubik’s cube, and two spatulas. She laughed at hers: a bullfrog figurine at full croak, dark chocolate bars, a pack of sticky notes for all the notes she liked to leave, and a lapel pin that said _You keep me in stitches_ with a ball of yarn in the background. 

“Thank you,” she said, putting on her pin with a smile. 

“And thank you!” He pretended to mix stuff with the spatulas and she laughed. 

The other gifts were from her and her mother. Mrs. Scully gave him a cookbook and new plastic mixing bowls. Dana had made him a dark gray scarf and a cap to match. He put them on right away, pulling her close for a kiss when she adjusted the scarf. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her again. She hummed and kissed him before pulling back. 

Standing up, he left the room to get her gift, his heart racing. Sitting down in front of her, he handed her the square package wrapped in snowman paper and tied with a green ribbon. 

She smiled as she untied the ribbon and slid it off the package. Ripping the paper, he let out a breath, swallowing hard. She lifted the lid and set it down beside her. Peeling back the red tissue paper, she gasped, her eyes lifting to his. 

“What? Oh, Fox.” She took the sweater out of the box, shaking her head as she looked at it. “You made this?” 

“I did.” He swallowed again and she looked at him with tears in her eyes. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

“It’s not exactly perfect.” 

“It is.”

“You haven’t even seen it all.” He laughed and she shook her head. 

“ _You_ made it. And it has pockets. I love it.” She stood up and he did too, watching her taking off her sweater, and putting the new one on over her camisole. “You’re sneaky, asking me which yarn I would use for someone else and getting it for me.” 

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking at the way it fit her perfectly. “Turn around, let me see.” She did and when she turned back around, her hands were in the pockets and she smiled happily. 

“This is so beautiful. I can’t believe you did this.” 

“Your mom helped.” 

“Sneaky, the both of you.” She smiled and took her hands from her pockets and placed them on his face. “I love it. I… I love you.” He grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“God, Dana. I love you too. So much.” 

_____________________

_2010_

“Hey! What did I tell you about using the wooden spoons?”

“To use the scorched ones.” 

“Right! Let’s switch!” 

“Dad! Where’s the chocolate sauce?” 

“Top shelf, love! The stepstool is in the pantry if you need it.” 

“I can reach it, I’m tall enough!” 

“Daddy!” 

“My love!” 

“Whose idea was it to have _this_ many children?” Fox laughed as he turned to look at his wife and she shook her head with a smile, looking at the four children running around them. 

“I believe it was you, my dear,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her as their oldest daughter made a disgusted sound. 

“I don’t remember the last one being part of the plan,” she teased quietly and he remembered how the last one had come to be. 

“Blame the bottles of wine and the fact that your mother volunteered to give us a weekend away.” He grinned and she smiled, tracing a heart with her finger, right over the one tattooed upon his chest. 

“You wear your heart on your sleeve,” Dana had said to him the night after he had asked her to marry him, her fingers tracing the scar from the bullet wound that had led them to one another. “Or outside your chest. I love that about you so much.” 

The next day, they had gone to a tattoo shop at her insistence, and he had a heart tattooed over his old scar, asking for it to be teal, like the walls in the yarn shop. 

“The color of happiness,” he had said and she had smiled as she watched the teal heart cover the puckered skin. 

Every one of their children had asked why he had a blue heart instead of a red one, their small fingers tracing it as they were held in his arms. 

“Blue doesn’t always mean sadness, my loves, sometimes blue can be the happiest color in the world.” 

“Like Mommy’s part of the shop?” they had asked and he had nodded with a smile. 

The little shop had grown over the years as they bought the building next door and turned it into a café. The name had changed as well, and was now known as Knit Knacks and Snacks. People came in to eat and then join in on a knitting lesson, taught by Dana’s mother, Dana, or their oldest daughter. 

And every night, when the shops were closed, the little family would turn on music and get the Knacks side of the shops ready for the next day. The Snacks side… Well, many new recipes were created after hours with many willing tasters ready to try anything with chocolate. 

“Dad! The biscuits!” 

“Oof!” He stepped away from Dana and ran to the oven, opening it to find they were the perfect color. “Crisis averted!” 

“Hooray!” 

He took the biscuits out and everyone came together to the counter. Six plates were laid down, a biscuit placed on each one and cut in half. Cut strawberries in a sugary liquid were scooped onto the biscuits, soaking it in deliciousness. Freshly made whipped cream was placed on top and the plates were distributed. 

They all sat down and ate their special Friday night treat, the youngest getting it all over his shirt, his grin red and happy. 

Fox looked at all of them, this family of his and he shook his head. Dana took a tissue from the pocket of a rather faded periwinkle sweater and wiped their son’s face with a shake of her head. 

“See how handy these pockets have been?” she asked with a smile and he laughed.

His heart was full and he felt happier than he ever imagined was possible. 

"I love you, Mulder clan." 

"Wuv you too, Bab.” Came their responses, all of their mouths full of strawberry shortcake, and he laughed once more. 


End file.
